Wednesday, March 5, 2014

I Dread Putting My Hand Into The Drain Of Our Kitchen Sink. I Dropped A Match Down There The Other Night And Almost Convinced Myself It Would Disintegrate After Running The Disposal For Awhile, Then I Remembered That Our Disposal Can't Even Manage Potato Skins, So I Reluctantly Had To Dive In. I Found More Than Just The Matchstick In There, Unfortunately.

How aggravating is it when you go to the trouble to empty the dishwasher only to return to the kitchen to find dishes stacked up on the counter or, worse yet, in the sink filled with a pool of watery food remains? It sends me over the edge.

I can actually have a conversation with people in my family while I'm emptying the dishwasher then moments later, watch that very same family member walk across the room, rinse their glass, and leave it on the counter just over the dishwasher space. They were so close to finishing the job - what happened?

Worst of all though, is when whomever is rinsing their plate believes that the dish needs to soak. There is something so incredibly disgusting to me to find a plate or bowl in the kitchen sink filled with a milky-looking pool of water with soggy food bits floating atop. It really gives me the gags to have to reach into the sink and touch the (now freezing cold) watery food soup to dump it out. I think we need to more clearly define what is considered 'soak-worthy' at the High House.

Sometimes I feel my loved ones believe a plate is considered a 'soaker' when all it really needs is a high power blast of water from the faucet to make it dishwasher ready. I'm willing to endure near boiling water running over my fingertips in order to actually melt food remains on a plate rather than use my fingernail or a scrubber to scrape it off myself. It's not environmentally sound at all, but I use the sink faucet and spray nozzle more than any other kitchen tool.

I stood at the counter today and sprayed hot water on some peanut butter smears in the sink to dissolve them for almost three minutes. It finally occurred to me that this probably wasn't the best use of our natural resources when my face started steaming from the hot water. I ended up wiping the peanut butter off with a paper towel, but not before I realized this is the closest I've gotten to a facial in since I had kids. It's a glamourous life, indeed.

I'm wearing this:

White jeans. And a turtleneck sweater. Because we have snow on the ground, but it's warm. Colorado in the month of March is all about juxtaposition.